


i feel it coming

by aceaaronminyard (necklace)



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Blood, Cigarettes, Gen, Mild Language, No Plot/Plotless, Nosebleed, Trans Male Character, but if you can be dramatic about them you make people angrily concerned, experience tells me that nosebleeds arent that fun, which is really fuckin funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 20:49:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12755946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/necklace/pseuds/aceaaronminyard
Summary: "What the fuck.How?""You already know how. It's not my fault I'm better at everything.""Just because you're older doesn't make you better, dickhead."OR: Andrew has a nosebleed and Aaron is angrily concerned about it.





	i feel it coming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [transtwinyards](https://archiveofourown.org/users/transtwinyards/gifts).



> I asked what I should write. [SJ](http://stubbornjerk.tumblr.com/) panicked, said nosebleeds, then backed it up by saying, "This happens all the time for you, it should be easy!"

"I'm going for a cigarette," Andrew says, thirty minutes into his essay on criminal justice and his educated opinion on death row. He needs a fucking break. Being in juvie didn't necessarily give him a whole tankload of opinions about it, but fuck, he remembers the in-class discussion today and is mostly writing a strong opinion out of spite.  
  
Aaron looks up from his game with Nicky when he says it and they make eye contact; Andrew can see the way he loses his game.  
  
"I'll go too," Aaron responds, as if it were an offer he just couldn't refuse, or something. Nicky makes a sound where he's sitting next to Aaron on the couch, but doesn't try to object too much when Aaron and Andrew start putting on needed additional layers and their shoes. Aaron is just wearing a pair of sweats and his binder, and Andrew is still in his jeans and shirt from earlier today, so Andrew has to wait a minute so Aaron can grab a t-shirt. It's Andrew's. Andrew doesn't really mind, it had started out as Aaron's a few years ago before it made its way to Andrew's closet, so he can't complain too much, even when the thing is only slightly too big for Aaron.  
  
(Andrew blames his ice cream addiction for that, really.)  
  
When Aaron is situated, they make their way to the roof with little conversation. Andrew doesn't care enough to talk at the moment, so he pulls a cigarette from his half empty pack and lights up before they even make it outside completely.  
  
Aaron sits down next to Andrew on the edge of the roof. Andrew faintly remembers that Aaron isn't scared of heights, but he is scared of bugs, spiders, and sleeping naked.  
  
Which is - which is probably not a great thing to remember, all considering. Andrew is sure that if Aaron had the option, he'd either be playing shitty rap or classic rock at the moment, and is quietly glad that he didn't bring his iPod up with them just for that reason.  
  
"What'd you get on your German exam?" Aaron asks, barely two minutes later.  
  
Andrew mourns his quiet night on the roof and sighs quietly.  
  
"100."  
  
"What the fuck. _How_?"  
  
"You already know how. It's not my fault I'm better at everything."  
  
"Just because you're older doesn't make you better, dickhead."  
  
Andrew huffs a little through his nose in scattered amusement. He idly takes a drag of his cigarette before he feels his nose start to tingle slightly, and breathes out during the realization that the tingling is going to turn into something.  
  
He'd put real money on the prospect of it being a nosebleed, and is proven right when he feels the tickle of blood dripping towards his mouth.  
  
He can be aloof about this. He really can. He turns his face away slightly to wipe the blood across his knuckles and cheek, turns back, and waits for Aaron to throw a fit about it.  
If he could feel anything, he'd probably be laughing at the moment, but he just takes another drag instead. No use thinking about it.  
  
His cigarette is half full by the time Aaron finally takes a glance at the blood dripping down Andrew's mouth and onto his fingers, his cigarette, and the small drops that make their way to fall onto Andrew's jeans.  
  
"Your nose - Andrew, what the fuck, your nose is bleeding-"  
  
"I'm aware," Andrew says, cutting him off. Aaron sputters next to him. Andrew doesn't look over, but he can see Aaron's hands fly to his pockets in Andrew's peripheral. When he pulls them out, a small container of wet wipes is in his hands.  
  
"Why the hell-"  
  
"They're for emergencies-"  
  
"-do you have wet wipes?"  
  
" _Emergencies_! And this, I think, counts as an emergency. Give me your face."  
  
"What the hell, no, go away-"  
  
"Your face is literally dripping blood, tilt your head back."  
  
"Let me finish this first," Andrew snaps, scooting away from Aaron's wandering hands and across the roof ledge. It freaks him out a little bit to do so, but he isn't letting Aaron touch him with that damn wet wipe at the moment. If that means struggling through the rest of this cigarette while barely being able to breathe through his nose, then so be it.  
  
"You theatrical asshole, _come here_ -" Aaron grunts, trying to shift closer. Andrew just stands up from the ledge and walks to the other end of the roof. He takes a spiteful drag along the way and nearly pukes when he registers the taste of blood that's mingled in with the smoke and tar, but holds back his gag just in time for Aaron to get himself up to try and chase him down.  
  
"I swear to God, Aaron-"  
  
"You're almost done anyway! Just let me see your fucking face, you bastard."  
  
"We're both bastards, you can't use that insult," Andrew fires back immediatetly. Aaron rolls his eyes so hard, Andrew fears actual brain damage, but lets Aaron grab onto his chin with identical fingers. He idly drops his cigarette and steps on it with0ut looking at if it actually went out while Aaron pulls a fresh wet wipe from his jacket pocket and starts to clean up the smears of drying blood.  
  
Andrew just stares at him while he does. The half-glare stopped affecting Aaron a year or so ago, but it's always nice to pull it out sometimes to show he's irritated at the situation. Aaron ignores him. Andrew doesn't expect anything less.  
  
"There," Aaron declares, maybe thirty seconds later. "Now clean your hands."  
  
Andrew is handed a fresh wet wipe for his fingers. He gives a cursory swipe and lets the thing drop to the ground. Aaron dives after it and shoves both wipes into his other pocket with a glare in his eyes.  
  
"Are you done being dramatic now? Can we go back inside?" Aaron huffs. Andrew just shrugs, letting Aaron lead the way to the door out.  
  
Aimed lightly at the back of Aaron's head, Andrew feels his lips twitch upwards for a fraction of a second before he feels it drop, and heads back inside to Nicky with Aaron leading the way.

**Author's Note:**

> you should know that i listened to classic rock while writing this and if i had any shame left in me, i'd feel it. but i don't. so have fun knowing that red hot chili peppers got me through this fic.
> 
> find me at [castrumwritings](http://castrumwritings.tumblr.com/) on tumblr B)


End file.
